Amane Emiko
by BeyondTheKilljoy
Summary: Amane Emiko is slowly struggling back to normal after living through a burglary with Misa, sister, while hiding in a closet. Emiko is hurt and Misa seems to be going through something horrid. Emiko has to decide whether to love this new monster, new Misa.
1. Dinnertime

**A/N: This is a alternative timeline from the orginal series of Death Note. Please enjoy.**

"And then she pulled my pigtail!" Misa finishes with a dramatic throwing of her hands. I roll my eyes and look at our mom – she isn't even paying attention.

"Mhmm…" Mom says. Misa jumps to the edge of her seat, straining her body against the seat belt. She pokes her face next to my seat. "Can you believe Sarah's nerve?" she asks me.

I flip the page of my book and sigh. "You did rip up her picture." I say, trying to ignore her and keep reading _To Kill a Mockingbird_.

"Well, the only reason she drew it was to make my picture look ugly!" Misa says impatiently.

"And you know that how?" I ask, closing my book and facing her.

Misa struggles for an answer, not wanting to admit I was right. Mom sighs, knowing that Misa's going to throw a fit. She starts talking before Misa starts her tantrum.

"Okay, girls, that's enough. Misa – it's a new year and I don't want you starting out second grade on such a bad foot. The same goes for you, Emiko." She finishes her speech as we pull into the driveway.

We go inside the house and Misa runs up the stairs. I go to the living room and feed my fish, Kippers. After watching him swim around with the little pieces of fish food for a few seconds, then head up the stairs myself.

I go to my room and throw my book bag in the corner and flop myself on my floor. I pull open _To Kill a Mockingbird_. Dill had just appeared out from underneath Scout's bed. I lose myself in Maycomb, Alabama and stay there for a good half hour, until Misa walks into my room.

Sigh.

She flops herself on my bed and rolls over on her stomach. She stares at me from there. "Emiko…?" she asks nicely.

I push myself into a sitting position and say, "Yeah?"

"Do you think I'm pretty?"

I roll my eyes and say, "Yes, Misa. You're very pretty."

"As pretty as Mom?"

"Yes."

"As pretty as you?"

"I'm not pretty, Misa."

"Sure you are," she says as she rolls off my bed and crawls toward me. She starts moving my hair out of my face and she pulls off my glasses while saying, "All you have to do is comb your hair, don't wear those dorky glasses, and maybe wear something besides t-shirts." She moves over to my drawer and picks up something. It's blurry until she comes closer – a comb. She starts pulling the knots out of my hair.

"Ow. Quit it, Misa." I say, trying to lean away from her.

"Just wait a second," she says. I stop fidgeting. Tolerance, I tell myself. "There," she says as she goes to pick something else of my drawer. When I can distinguish what it is, I roll my eyes. Misa hands me the mirror and I look into it.

The person staring back at me is a stranger. My hair actually fell out of my face and you could see my eyes. It wasn't a bad reflection, I admit.

"See – you are pretty." She says, making her point more pointed by holding the looking at me through the mirror. Someone could actually believe we were sisters now.

"Sure, I guess. Thanks, Misa that was really –"

"Girls, it's time to eat!"

I get off by my mom's voice. I realize I was about to say something actually nice to Misa; I hop up before she can make me. She stays sitting and I turn around and say impatiently, "Come on, Misa. You heard her – it's time to eat."

**More chapters will be uploaded soon. Please review.**


	2. A spill

I come walking down the stairs, Misa in tow behind me. I see Dad come out of his office and he see us. He smiles and says, "Hey, girls! How was your first day at school?"

Misa immediately goes off on the tangent of the girl pulling her pigtail and I walk into the kitchen and grab my plate. After sitting down, Dad turns to me and says, "And how about you, Emiko? Did you like your first day of middle school?"

"It was fine I guess." I say as I bite into my macaroni. It was actually pretty unbearable since I was the only one there who didn't know anyone else but I wasn't going to tell Dad that.

"Good," he says. He then turns to listen to Misa tell him about what they had for lunch. Mom reads the paper while chewing her chicken. I scoop the rest of my food into a big pile on my plate and shove it all my mouth, standing up.

Misa hops up too, most of her plate empty. "I'm done." We say at the same time. Dad looks up and laughs.

"In a rush much?" he asks. Misa goes too quickly to grab her drink and knocks it over. Dad shakes his head and says, "Could you go get me red towel in the hall closet Misa?"

Misa pouts but she does as she is told after we put or plates in the sink. As she walks over to the hall closet, across the hall from dining room which is right in front of our back door. I start up the stairs, ready to go back to Maycomb and find out what Miss Maybella was saying.

"I can't reach it!" Misa cries.

"Emiko," Dad calls. "Help your sister get the towel."

I sigh and clomp down the stairs. Why do I have to help her? I go over to the closet and stand on my toes, stretching my fingers to reach the towel. "I can't get it." I say.

"Get on the floor and I'll get on your back." Misa suggests.

I get on my knees and she climbs shakily onto my back. She sways and I try not to drop her. She squeals and I say, "Misa, stop being stupid and just get the towel."

She has got her hands on it when she falls on the floor. "Oww," she says as we both lie flat on the floor.

Suddenly the back door busts open and I hear a gun fire. Mom screams and I hear a rough voice say, "Both of you on the floor! Or I shoot!"

Misa is about to scream when I throw my hands over her mouth. I pull her close to me and push us both in the closet. I close the door, but leave it cracked.

I see my parents on the floor and a man hanging over them with a gun in his hand. I gasp and try to stifle my fear. I have to be strong for Misa, I remind myself.

I slowly let go off Misa's mouth and she looks at me, frightened. She asks in a whisper, "Are we going to die, Emiko?"


	3. Hiding

I stare at her and she looks back at me, her eyes begging me to say something. "Of course not, Misa. We just have to stay here." I manage to squeak out.

"What about Mom and Dad?" she asks softly. I throw a glance at our parents, laying on the floor with their hands over their hands.

"They would want us to stay here." I say firmly, knowing that they would. The man suddenly walks past them; I pull Misa closer to me and push us as far back in the closet as I can.

"You stay there or I swear I'll blow your freakin' brains out!" he threatens as he starts to walk out of the dining room. He pauses when he sees the stairs and walks back in, grabbing Mom by her hair.

Misa cries out and I throw my hands over her mouth. Again. "Shh…" I whisper frantically as Mom cries out.

"You're going to show me where everything is," he says as he jerks her head back. "And if you go anywhere, she's dead." He points the gun to Dad. Seeming to make a second decision, he kicks Dad in the head. I see his eyes go up into his head. Mom and my cries mix together. I force myself to stop sobbing. I have to be strong for Misa, I remind myself.

I can feel the tears go down my hands that have come from Misas' eyes. I pull her as close to me I can and try to steady my breathing. "It's going to be alright, Misa. It's going to be alright." I repeat like a chant underneath my breath.

He pulls Mom out of the dining room and drags her past the closet. They disappear up the stairs. I peek out of the closet, and see Dad lying on the floor. I pull myself in closer to the closet, letting go of Misa's mouth.

Her breath comes in quick gasps and she says, "Is Dad okay?"

I take a deep breath and say, "He'll be fine, I promise. So will we, we just –"

My sentence is cut off when I hear clomping down the stairs. The man comes back, holding a bag and pointing the gun in Mom's back. He's just about to go in the dining room – and leave, I pray – when he suddenly stops next to the closet.

Misa squeaks and I'm force to grab her face again. I pull her even closer to me, my hands pressing into her face.

"What's in there?" he asks, pointing his gun to the closet.


	4. Blackness

My breath stops and I can feel Misa stop breathing too. I try to shove myself farther in the closet, any way to move farther away from the door. I realize my foot's being pushed against a box – how the heck did I not realize that was down there?

It's the box for our newspapers to go in before Dad decides it's time to go take them to a recycle bin down in front of the supermarket. I focus my attention back to the man. I see him drop down the bag and move toward the door; I see Mom's eyes widen frantically. His hand just grazes the door when she screams, "I have silver in my cabinet over the oven."

He turns back around, momentarily distracted. He decides the silver is more important that what can ever be in this closet. He points the gun back at Mom and picks up the closet. I take in a deep breath. As he starts to walk in the dining room, I turn around with Misa and feel my back graze the door. Misa faces the wall now and I shove her to her knees with difficulty.

"Emiko…" she whispers.

"Get in the box," I hiss. She opens the box slightly loud so I whisper, "Shh…!"

I can feel her climb in and she lies down. I get down on my knees and can see with the little light I have that there is no way I'll fit in the box. I close it quietly and Misa says, "Emiko," She's frightened.

"Just be quiet; I'm not going anywhere." I say as I stand back up and try to look out the crack.

Mom is standing next to Dad, looking down at him. I can see the tears streaking down her face. The man comes back into the dining room and says nastily, "So where are your girls? I know you have some – I saw their rooms."

Mom stares at him, not saying a word. "Tell me!" he demands. She flinches back and opens her mouth.

"My youngest is at a friend's house and my oldest is staying after for a…a book club." She manages to squeak out. He looks at her with his eyes squinted.

"Yeah? Are you sure they aren't in that closet?" he asks.

She gasps and says, "No! No one is in there."

"Then I guess I'll just take a look," he says as he starts to walk back over to the closet.

Where do I go? I can't fit in the box – and that will give Misa away. Mom starts after him and says "Wait!" stretching out her hand. He spins around and points the gun at her.

"You take another step and you'll be on the floor in your blood." He says threating.

She stops walking, and starts crying again. He doesn't even care, and he walks to the door where I stand. He wrenches and when I see his full face, I think, _I'm really going to die now._

The last thing I remember seeing is the butt of his gun as I hit the floor. Then all I see is black.

**Please review and there will be more chapters soon!**


	5. Waking up

I crack my eyelids open, sensing a bright light when I first wake up. _Am I alive?_

When I open them fully I realize that all the walls are white. I'm in a hospital room. "She's awake!" I hear Misa cry. I look to my left and see her sitting by my bed; she looks unharmed and I breathe a sigh of relief.

Suddenly the door opens and I see Mom. _Oh, my God. _Her face is covered in bruises and, from what I can see of her arms, so are they. When she sees me, she cries out and throws herself on my bed. I feel her hands stroke the back of my hair and I wildly ask, "Where's Dad?"

She pulls back and looking sheepish says, "I made sure you two had adjoining rooms so he's in the room next to you."

"Wait – he's in the hospital too?"

"Yes, honey. It's really confusing but I promise your Dad and I will explain everything when we all leave the hospital." She says, avoiding telling me any detail.

A doctor suddenly walks into the room and we all turn to look at him. He looks up from his paper and smiles, saying, "Well, we're awake now, aren't we?"

Mom completes ignores his pleasantries and asks, "Is she okay to go home soon?"

The doctor looks at his paper and responds. "Well, the bruising to her head is almost gone, so she should be clear to go home tomorrow or the next day."

Mom puts her hand over her heart and says, "Thank you. How is my husband?"

"He's another story…the damage to his skull from the kick will make him have to stay here for another week or so…"

"Damage to his skull?" I ask, looking at Mom.

She looks at me and I know she won't tell me the answer. "You don't need to worry about it, honey. Right now, all you need to worry about is getting better."

I look at Misa and she looks back at me, knowing more than I do. I sit there as Mom thanks the doctor and he leaves. She looks at me, patting my leg. Then she stands up, saying, "I'm going to check on your father. Misa, keep Emiko company."

As soon as she closes the door, I turn in my bed to face Misa. "So what happened?" I ask.

**I apologize for this chapter being so short and I will update soon again! Please click the review below and tell me what you think!**


	6. Misa's Testimony

Misa takes a deep breath and I settle in, knowing I'm going in to be in for a long story. "Well, I stayed hidden in the box – don't worry, he didn't see me – and saw him hit with you the gun. Then, you know, you passed out. I had to stop myself from screaming and then Mom tried to attack him."

"Attack him?" I ask, alarmed.

Misa nods her head really quick, looking serious. "Yeah, and then since he was bigger and had a gun, he was able to fight her off. But she tried to claw him in the face – you can probably see what happened to her then." She says sheepishly.

"Yeah…" I mutter, looking away.

"So he was hitting her…and just kept hitting her. I think he beat her unconscious." She pulls in a deep breath. I can tell this is hard for her. "Then he got out of my sight. I think he went upstairs to look for more things.

"I soon heard him come back down and I think he left then – but I couldn't see. I wanted to get out of the box and see if everyone was okay but I was scared and I didn't want him to still be there…so I just stayed in the box.

"I guess I fell asleep, or something, because next thing I know Mom's holding me and crying. She was crying so I started crying and we just sat there until the ambulance came – I guess she called them while I was asleep.

It was so scary when they put you on the stretcher thing. I thought you were going to die." The last part she says in a whisper, and I look over to see her eyes filled with tears.

I start to tear up as I pull her close to me, saying, "Misa…"

I hold her for a few minutes while she gets in control of herself, and then I move to where I can see her face. I give her a smile which she returns with a watery one.

"Thanks, Emiko… Can I stay here with you tonight? Please?"

I sigh, but secretly I'm happy she wants to stay with me. "Sure, Misa."

**If you've read this far, that probably means you know why I'm writing down here. PLEASE REVIEW. I want to know what you think of the story, of Emiko, of younger Misa. **


	7. A different type of justice

**A/N: This a few days after the last chapter. There is a skip in the timeline. I just did't want any confusion. Please enjoy!**

I approach my teacher, already in a mess on my first day back to school. I thought it would go over smoothly, but now it's the last period of the day and I've found out that a project has been assigned, a test taken, and books given. I was so behind – and now I find out that a paper on _To Kill a Mockingbird_ was due in my Understanding Different Cultures class. "?" I say, timid of her reproach.

"Hmm? Yes, Miss Amane?" she says, shuffling the papers she had just collected on her desk.

I fidget, standing in front of her. "I wasn't here when you assigned the paper." I say awkwardly while still trying to be polite. "May I turn it in tomorrow?"

I see realization light up in her eyes – of course all the teachers had to be informed why I wouldn't be in school for a few days – and then pity. I feel my face flush as my stomach drops with shame. _I don't want your pity,_ I say in my mind.

"Of course, sweetheart." She says. The bell suddenly dings and the kids shuffle out of the classroom. I hurry over to my desk and grab my book bag. I move quickly out of the room, anxious to get away from the pity.

I go to my bus – Mom hadn't picked me up since the day "it" had happened. I refused to call it what it was in my mind – that would make it too real. Then the fear would completely overtake me; I know it. She can't pick me up anymore, or Misa for that matter, because she was too busy working.

Dad would be working once he got out of the hospital – which would be any day now. They had to work constantly now because of "it". I ride on the bus, watching the trees go by in a green blur. I lean my head against the window – tired. I had to stay in the hospital two more days after the talk Mom had with the doctor, so I kind of got used to Misa sleeping with me. I even enjoyed it a little. But I came home yesterday, so Misa and I had our own rooms. I didn't sleep good last night.

The bus pulls to my stop and I lurch to my feet. I stumble off the bus, and up my driveway. I pull open the door to our house, still surprised to see everything we still had there.

"I'm home," I call, knowing Misa's upstairs in her room. I walk into the past the dining room and look into it. I see a note on the table. I go over to it and I see what it reads:

_Girls, I'm working late. Dinner is in the fridge. I love you – Mom._

I sigh, balling up the note and sticking it in my jacket pocket. I go up to my room, throwing my book bag into the corner as usual. I look around, still amazed on how my bare my room looked.

I used to have a laptop, but that was before "it" happened. I also used to own a trumpet, which I kind of learned how to play in fourth grade when I actually got interested in learning music (and before I got too lazy to try). I had a mini-television, which rarely got touched since I was either reading or staring up at my ceiling, trying to sleep.

I move to my book bag and pull out a notebook, and a pen. I start writing:

_The most interesting part of To Kill a Mockingbird to me was how Tom Robinson was killed. I wonder if he ran off because he knew that he would never get a truly just trial because of the prejudices or if he simply was tired of trying._

_I don't exactly know how this type of trial would go over in Japan, since I'm not sure how the prejudice would be._

I stop writing there, because I can't think of anything to put down at the moment. I lean back into my pillows and stare up at the ceiling. I hear my door crack and Misa's voice poke through. "Emiko…?"

I force myself to sit up to where I can see her. She looks timid, almost like she's afraid to bother me. _What's with her?_ I wonder idly.

"Yeah?" I say.

"Can you come help me fix dinner?" she asks.

I drag myself off the bed and say, "Sure."

We carry ourselves down to the kitchen. We open the fridge and see noodles in a container. I guess this is dinner. I take it out and open a cabinet over the open to grab two plates. I put enough on one plate for myself and put around the same amount on the other. "Is that enough for you?" I ask Misa. She nods her head quickly.

I put both them in the microwave, pressing the button to make the plate start turning. I go to another cabinet and pull out two cups. "Can you get me the tea out of the fridge?" I ask Misa.

She goes over and gets it for me. "Thanks." I say as take it from her and start pouring it.

"No problem," she says. The microwave buzzer goes off and she says, "I'll get it."

She gets it out and takes the hot plates over to the table. I bring the glasses with me and we sit across from each other. The first few moments of dinner we sit in silence, eating.

I take another bite, swallow, and ask, "So how was school?"

She pushes her noodles with her fork, looking down at her plate. It was her first day back too. "It was fine, I guess." She says, quietly and uninterested.

"I know what you mean." I say with as much feeling as the limp noodles on my plate.

Soon we're finished with dinner and we carry our plates back into the kitchen. I start running water, getting the sink ready to wash dishes. Misa grabs some towels to dry with – we always help each other with the dishes. It's one of the few chores that Misa and I have to do, so we rarely ever complain.

When I'm emptying the sink from the soap, I can hear the door open. "I'm home," I hear Mom call. She walks into the kitchen a few minutes later, looking tired.

"Hi, Mom." I say, careful not to mention anything that could set her off about "it".

"Hey, Mom." Misa says.

"How are you girls?" she asks.

"Fine." We say in unison. We both don't want to give her anything bad to think about. "How are you, Mom?" Misa asks.

"I'll be doing better when your father comes home." She sighs.

"Is that because he's going to get a lawyer to put that robber in jail?" Misa asks, blunt and to-the-point.

"Misa!" I say.

Mom sighs and looks at me. "It's alright, Emiko. And yes, partially because of that and partially because then he would be able to work also."

"Oh." Misa says.

Mom smiles at us and then turns, leaving the kitchen. I know she's going to lay down – she really did look tired.

Soon Misa and I are also walking up the stairs, to our rooms. Before I go into mine, I turn to Misa and say, "You shouldn't have asked Mom that. She has a lot on her mind right now and she doesn't need to know that you're worrying about stuff like that."

She looks at me and says, almost coldly, "I have the right to worry about stuff like that – it concerns me too. And besides, I wanted to know if Dad and Mom were going to do anything about the robbery." I flinch from the word. "That man deserves justice." She says, turning and walking away from me, towards her room.

I shudder and stare after her. The way she said it made me think her _justice_ was very much different than the court's justice.

**I hoped you liked - it's somewhat longer than the previous chapters and that's because it may take me a little longer to update again since I have to do some research for the next chapter. Please tell me what you think by reviewing!**


	8. Mr Kimura and some little dollies

**A/N: The book _Hand Me Down World_ is an actual book by Lloyd Jones. The song Misa sings in here is an actual song by X-Japan. What Misa is singing is the English translation of the song. The song's name is Without You. I just wanted to make that clear and I own neither the book, song, or Death Note.**

Three days after Dad comes home, the lawyer comes to the house. It was while Misa and I were washing the dishes. Mom had just finishing putting the leftovers in containers when the doorbell rang. Dad when to get it, Mom following after him.

I heard the door open and a raspy male voice say, "Hello. My name is Kimura Eiichi. You must be Mr. and Mrs. Amane. I'm so sorry for your misfortune."

Misa and I look at each other and dry our hands on our dishtowels. We creep past the dining room to see who's standing in the entrance of our home. He's a middle age man with a receding hairline and a pot belly. He shakes Dad's hand and walks into our home. Misa and I move quickly back to the kitchen.

"Please follow me," Dad says. I hear them walk into the living room. I hear our old recliner creak as one of them sit in it. I hear a cough, and then Mr. Kimura starts talking.

"This is a terrible thing that has happened to you and your home. I wish to help you get justice. The man who you said was the one to rob you is in custody as we speak. Unfortunately, we cannot get a time in court for the next several weeks."

"What? Why not? How is that fair?" I hear Mom exclaim.

"Honey…" Dad says, warning her to be polite.

Misa and I finish the dishes and we head out towards the stairs. We walk slowly listening to them talk.

"Of course there must be jury members picked and actually, this is good for us." Mr. Kimura says.

"How so?" Mom asks.

"Because this gives us more time to build a good defense in court." He says.

"But doesn't it also give the robber more time to build up his defense?" Dad asks.

We walk slowly up the stairs, still trying to eavesdrop.

"It doesn't matter if they also have time to build up a defense – he's guilty and the jury will see that. No matter how good of a defense he has."

After that, I'm up the stairs and can't distinguish what they're saying. I walk into my room, and Misa follows me in. She throws herself on my bed and stares up at me from there.

"Why do they need to go to court, Emiko?" she asks.

I look at her and say, "They just have to. That's how it's done, if they want to put that man in jail." I go over and kneel over my book bag. I pull out the next book my Understanding Different Cultures class - _Hand Me Down World._ I'm already half-way through the book.

I lie down on the floor and open it up. Misa moves to where she can see me from the bed. "They already know he's guilty – we know he's guilty. Can't they just punish him?"

"No. They can't. They have to at least let him tell his side of the story – to try and prove he's innocent. Everyone gets a chance to prove they aren't guilty."

"They shouldn't get that chance. Some people are so horrible that they don't deserve that. All they deserve is to be punished. To rot in jail until they die." She says the last part savagely, with a strange hint of malice in her voice.

I look up from my book and stare at her in horror. _What is with her? Why does she seem to enjoy the idea of punishment? What's going on in Misa's brain? _I think while I gaze at her.

"You shouldn't think like that, Misa." I say sharply.

She looks at me with her eyes squinted. She cocks her head and says, "I can think whatever way I want. And I know what I'm thinking is right – I can feel it. If you can't see that it's right, then that's your problem. Not mine." She jumps off my bed and walks out.

I sigh, knowing that she is upset at me. I try to go back to my book but needing to make things right with Misa pulls at my gut. I close my book and get up.

I walk over to Misa's room and crack the door open, prepared to go in. I stop when I see Misa sitting on the floor with all of her dolls out around her. She doesn't hear my almost entrance.

The dolls all stand in a circle, facing her. Though she's gotten too old to play with them, she still takes good care of them. Or she did. I can see that all have some little thing different than when our parents first bought them.

One of them has their hands broken off, two have their clothes so ripped up that they didn't even look frilly anymore, one has a rope around its neck, and three had marker over their faces making them look like they were crying and like their faces were cracked. She had one more in her hands, snipping its hair off with a pair of scissors. My stomach is filled to the brim with a mix of horror and fear.

She was singing under her breath, "I stand still on this night I'm too tired to walk through…Crossing these flowing tears with memory…There are as many farewells as encounters…But time goes on forever, so I believed…Even the words we hurt each other with, I embrace now…Just turning back I feel alone… How should I love you…How could I feel you…Without you…Countless memories fill in my time,"

I watch as she finishes snipping the hair, making a sloppy boy cut for her doll. She finishes singing the depressing song, and starts mumbling the tune under her breath as she stands to get another doll. I don't want to watch what she does to this one but I can't help but stand there.

She takes it back to the circle, all the while humming the depressing tune. After sitting back in the middle of the circle, I notice that this one is different than the others one. The others were china and this was one of her few cloth dolls. She takes the scissors and I idly wonder if she's going to cut this one's hair also.

Instead she takes it to the doll's face. I suck a breath in as she stabs the doll's eyes. She cuts all the cloth that makes up the eyes and rips them off. I swallow bile, trying to keep my throat from closing up. Misa drops the doll and stands up, walking and going down underneath her bed.

She pulls out a small shoe box and takes it over to the dolls. When she opens it, I strain to see what's inside. I see a small bird feather, a broken locket, some buttons, and a small bird carcass. The last part almost brings the bile back up and I have to work to keep it from coming up. _Why does she have that? _I wonder frantically.

I want to move before I see what she's going to do with the stuff in the box, but I don't. It's almost like the same force that is keeping me rooted to the spot, is also shoving me away. She takes out two black buttons and some thread and needle I didn't see. I already know what she's going to do before she sows the buttons on as the eyes.

After she finishes up, she puts the needle back into the box. She also puts the cloth eyes in there. She turns around in the circle, putting the piece of the dolls she mutilated in the box.

She stands up and puts the box back under her bed. Misa walks to her dresser, with its over-large mirror sitting on it. She sits on a stool and picks up her brush. She leaves the dolls in the circle, the cloth one laying in the middle with its new button eyes. She picks up her brush and begins running it through her hair.

"Crossing these flowing tears with memory…There are as many farewells as encounters…" she starts to sing again.

I finally feel like I can move again. My heart twists in my chest as I wonder just exactly what Misa was going through. I go back to my room, pick up _Hand Me Down World_, and start reading even though my mind is a thousand miles away – or more like a room away with a girl brushing her hair.

**If you enjoyed this chapter, please let me know. If you didn't, please let me know. Mmkay thanks!**


	9. Friends

**A/N: I would like to point out that Dengeki Daisy is a real manga series. Also, shogi is like a Japanese form of chess. I own neither of these things nor Death Note (no matter how bad I want to).**

I turn to go into the cafeteria, my mind thinking about the conversation I "overheard" last night. Mr. Kimura had come to discuss "it" with Mom and Dad for the third time this week. Misa and I had sat up at the top of the stairs for the second time, listening to them. I hadn't asked Misa what she was doing when I went to apologize to her – I didn't apologize to her either.

_Mr. Kimura coughs before he starts talking, "So – with all pleasantries aside, I'm going to need to ask you a few questions specifically Mrs. Amane."_

_Misa looks at me, and then stares down the stairway. Dad says something can't catch and Mr. Kimura responds with, "It's because she had a close encounter with the robber. She and he were the only ones upstairs when he took your things. I need to get her account of what happened since it will be only her word against his."_

_Dad says something again that I can't quite understand but I can tell he's arguing. His words are cut off when Mom says, "No, honey, it's fine. I want to tell Mr. Kimura if it will help bring that man to justice."_

_Mr. Kimura coughs again and says, "Thank you, Mrs. Amane. Now, please tell me what happened after he grabbed you and lead you up the stairs?"_

"_He pushed me up the stairs with his gun. He had his hand pulling my hair and he led me into Emiko's room first…" I can't hear what she says next. I lean as close to the railing as I can get. Her next few words are indistinguishable but they slowly come back to my hearing. "…he made me go to the closet to get a bag out for him. I keep bags, toilet paper, and things like that in a closet upstairs. He stood there watching me, pointing a gun at me…" the words fade in and out again. "…he took some stuff from Emiko's room and then he went to Misa's… He didn't take much from her, just some of her jewelry… I guess he wanted to pawn it… then he went to my room and he took all of my jewelry and Kazue's personal computer… He took me back down stairs."_

"_Are you sure that's all?" he asks._

_I'm sure Mom says yes, because the next thing he says is, "Thank you for your help, Mrs. Amane. And you also, Mr. Amane. I will come by again shortly but as of now, I must leave." _

_Misa and I stand up and –_

I'm jerked out of my thoughts when I run into someone. "Aghhh!" I say as I fall, entangled with some girl. Her book falls from her hands. As soon as we're on the floor, she's pushing away from me, laughing.

_What is she laughing at? _I wonder as I grab her book for her.

She looks at me while she takes her book. She has a grin on her face and says, "Hey, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm sorry – I wasn't watching where I was going." I say as we stand up.

"Well, neither was I." she says, laughing again. "Aren't you in my Understanding Different Cultures class?"

I realize I am. She was a girl that never really registered in my mind since she sat by herself – much like myself – and doodled in her notebook. "Yeah. What is your name again?"

"Oh, I'm Yoko. Isn't your name Emiko?" we walk into the cafeteria together and get our trays.

"Yeah – I'm Emiko. So what are you reading?" I ask, pointing to the book under her arm.

"Dengeki Daisy. Have you heard of the series?" she asks.

"Umm…no. I'm sorry; I don't usually read manga. I'm more into books with no pictures." I say awkwardly.

She laughs and says, "Well, those are good too. I just prefer manga – and I just started Dengeki Daisy."

I laugh with her this time, noting how easy it was to talk to her. "Yeah, how is it so far?"

"I'm already addicted. I love manga so much – I think it's because of the pictures." She says, her happiness of the book overflowing into her words. We finish through the line and I stand awkwardly, trying to find an empty lunch table.

"You can sit outside with me if you want." She suggests. _She still wants to talk to me?_ I stare at her in amazement, and then I answer quickly in case she changes her mind.

"Sure."

We walk outside and sit underneath a tree. A boy comes running up and jumps onto a bench nearby, crying out, "Hello, Yoko, Silver of all things strange."

He laughs, coming down from the bench. Yoko laughs as well and says, "And hello to you too, Niou, my faithful Knight. This is Emiko – Emiko that's Niou."

"My pleasure," he says, bowing to me. I can't stifle a giggle. "I believe you are a Lance. Don't you think so, Yoko?" he asks.

_What are they talking about?_ My eyebrows furrow in my confusion.

"I think she'd make a good Lance – that or a Rook." Yoko responds to Niou.

"I'm sorry but what?" I interrupt their exchange.

Yoko looks at me and laughs. "I forgot that you don't realize what we're talking about. Niou and I enjoy to play shogi – do you know what that is?"

"I've heard of it, but I've never played it before." I say, still mostly confused.

"You've never played shogi before?" Niou looks at me in astonishment.

I look at him, abashed, and shake my head no. Yoko looks at me with sadness and amusement in her eyes. It's a very strange mix. They spend the rest of lunch educating me in shogi. I understand that when Niou called Yoko Silver it was a high game piece – a Knight was a little lower. I found out that Lance was an even lower piece but was essential to help keep the King safe from being captured. Too soon, the bell rings.

Niou looks up at the dings and, grinning at me and Yoko, says, "Well, I ought to be off. Farewell for now, Silver of all things strange and little Lance." Laughing to himself, he runs off.

Yoko and I gather up our things and walk to the Understanding Different Cultures class. When we get into the room, we sit together. I contain my euphoria inside myself, for once feeling like I had some reason to look forward to coming to school.

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please review!**


	10. A secret of Misa's

**A/N: Angela's Ashes and By The Time You Read This, I'll Be Dead are real stories.**

When I got off the bus two days later, both Mom and Dad's vehicles were in the driveway. Mr. Kimura was pulling out of the driveway. _What was he doing here so early? And why are Mom and Dad home from work so early? Does Misa know? _

I walk into the house. I see Mom standing in the dining room, but Dad is nowhere to be found. Her expression worries me extremely – she looks so tired…so defeated. I walk past her, too frightened to say anything, and she says nothing as well. I think I hear Dad in his study, it's that quiet. I walk up the stairs after feeding Kippers.

Once I'm in my room, I see Misa's in there as well. Her eyes are slightly worried but mostly happy. She smiles at me when I come in. "Look Emiko, I painted my nails. It was the first time I did them by myself. I think this red looks good on me. Do you?" she flashes her nails, a deep crimson red painted on them.

"What happened? Why was Mr. Kimura here?" I ask, throwing my book bag in the corner.

"You didn't answer my question," she pouts, and pushes herself off my bed. She starts walking around my room.

I roll my eyes and sigh. "Yes, Misa. That's a very pretty color on you."

She turns to look at me, smiling. "See, I knew you would agree with me." She turns back to my dresser and begins messing with my things.

"Now you answer my questions – why was Mr. Kimura here? What's wrong with – Hey! Don't touch those Misa!" I say the last part loudly, noticing she was picking up my pens.

She sits one down, slowly. "What's the big deal? All they are are pens."

My jaw snaps shut – _she did not just say that._ "Misa, they may just be pens to you but to me they are a lot more than that. They are the start of everything – without pens and pencils no one would be able to write down any of their great ideas. None of the best books would have been written. Those pens mean something to me, so please, don't touch them." I try to restrain the tension in my voice. She puts the pens back.

"Yeah, okay. Whatever you say, Emiko." She seems bored. I work to control my aggravation. I take a deep breath and ask her my questions again.

"So why was Mr. Kimura here? And why is Mom upset?"

Misa throws a look at me, knowing. "Well, it's because the court date got pushed back."

"What?" I gasp.

Misa nods her head, all wrapped up in telling the story now. "Yeah, apparently one of the jurors attacked another one just outside the court house with a gun. After he killed the other guy, another juror tackled him and out of nowhere, that juror gets shot also. The guy that killed the first juror then turned the gun on himself."

"Where did the other shot come from?" I ask, my eyes big.

Misa smiles at me – a really creepy one that sends shivers up my spine. "The man had another one with them. They were hit men sent to kill that first juror – I think that's what Mr. Kimura said. The first one knew he was going to have to kill himself, but the other juror got in the way, so the second hit man – who was watching to make sure nothing went wrong I guess – killed him. It was just one big blood fest." She says the last part almost like it wasn't a bad thing.

"Did they catch the other hit man?"

"Of course," Misa snorts, now examining my book case.

"So… they have to find more jurors?" I ask. Though I'm disgusted that someone would do that, I'm more worried about the case than to take time in letting myself wallow in horror.

"That and they pushed the court date back so that they could convict the second hit man."

"They're pushing back the date so they can do another trial?" I ask, my voice had slightly risen.

"Why do you read so many books with such depressing titles?" Misa asks randomly.

"What has that got to do with anything? How is it fair that they are making us wait to do another trial?"

"You didn't answer my question." Misa pouts.

"My books aren't depressing," I retort.

"Angela's Ashes… By The Time You Read This, I'll Be Dead… What part of those don't say depressing?"

"Those are just a few. Leave my books alone – I can read whatever I want to read." I say stubbornly.

"Okay – and about your earlier question, I guess in the court, murder is more important than theft." She turns and leaves my room.

The rest of the night passes in a blur. Mom comes into my room and tells me if I want something to eat, I need to come make it. I don't get hungry, so I go to sleep without dinner.

In the middle of the night I wake up to hear Mom and Dad fighting. They're screaming at each other – they never fight like this. I slip out of my bed – I oddly want Misa as of right now. I open my room door without a sound and tiptoe to her room. The light's on – I'm about to go in when I notice. I crack the door and can't believe what I'm witnessing.

**Please tell me what you thought!**


	11. A need

Misa always loved to keep her clothes. Whether it fit her or not, she refused to give it away. I guess it was just part of her selfish charisma. So, in a dresser at the bottom of her bed, she kept all her little clothes from years ago. She had pulled out some of her frilly church dresses that she had when she was around, four, and had put them on her bed.

The cloth doll was also on her bed, button eyes and all.

She was ripping them into pieces, shredding them. I could see how much work it was taking her but she was doing it. After tearing a small dress to shreds, she picked up her cloth doll. She tied a strip tightly around the dolls mouth. Then she picked up another strip and tied it around so it covered the dolls ears. Another for the mouth – then she put a strip tightly around the neck.

_I can't watch Misa slowly lose her sanity and humanity._ My feet wouldn't let me move.

"No evil can you hear, speak, or see. Be a perfect little doll – just for me." She whispered it so soft I almost couldn't catch it. She lifted the doll by the strip hanging from the neck – it turned slowly.

She sighed and dropped it. She put the strips back into the dresser and the doll under her bed, moving over to her mirror. She looked in it and smiled, big and bright. I realized now all her smiles were fake – just like that one. She was just hiding; and all this time I thought she was stupid. Maybe she is still.

_Or maybe she's just innocent in her malevolence. _My brain threw an idea randomly into itself – it knocked my breathless with just how true it could be. Suddenly my stomach was heavy with guilt and indecision.

_Should I go in there? Then she'll know I was watching her… was that right for me to do? Should I talk to her about it? How will she respond…how will I even start the conversation?_

While I worry myself into an immovable lump of uncertainty outside of Misa's door, Mom and Dad's voices got louder. As they shout more and more, I hear "case", "Mr. Kimura", and "hit man" thrown around a lot. I know they're fighting about "it" and I wished with a burning passion that it would have never happened so they wouldn't have to fight. Not about this. Not like this.

I notice her hand is on her brush, twisting it around and around again by her other hand. She can hear them scream at each other as well. Her smile is still glued on her face – still scarily sweet and looking real. The brush seems to have a time turning – almost like she's holding it too tight.

Suddenly, she snaps the head off and has one part in one hand; the other part in the other hand. Her smile remains as she breathes out a soft sigh. I can hear her say it then, the words I knew she must be saying in her head, but I never wanted it to be true.

"I never want Mom and Dad to fight. They're all I have – I wish I could be the one to kill that man and make them stop fighting. I just want them to be happy – I'd kill him for it." Her smile is still plastered on her face, but to me it took on a slightly neurotic edge.

_I'm not going in there_. Now that my fear was realized, I wasn't going to take the chance of going in there with Misa. _She's selfish and has no aversion to evil. _I tell myself as I walk back to my room. Even if it was more like running.

I wake up a little bit after falling asleep – since I had finally gotten to sleep with their yelling still going on – when someone slipped in bed with me. It was silent outside and I heard Misa whisper, "Emiko…?"

I didn't want to reply. She was my sister and a person who scared the living mess out of me. But she was still my sister. "Yeah?"

I feel her head press into my back and she whispers, "I just wanted to know if you were awake. I'm glad Mom and Dad stopped fighting – I wish the case was over and the man was dead so that they wouldn't fight anymore."

She said to me herself – so it wasn't like it was some secret she was dying to keep. Maybe she just wasn't smart enough to think to keep it a secret. "You shouldn't wish someone dead." I say, letting my tone fill with my horror.

"I wouldn't wish most people dead – just those that deserve to die. I wouldn't wish my teacher dead, or our neighbor, or you. You know that right?"

I don't respond.

Her arms encircle me and she mumbles, almost asleep, "I wouldn't wish you dead, Emiko. You would never do something so wrong that I would need to."

_It's a need to wish someone dead to you, Misa?_


	12. Dear Diary

I wake up to Misa curled up next to me. It's the weekend, so we were allowed to sleep in. I slowly move away from Misa – careful not to wake her. Once out of the bed, I leave the room. I go to hers.

Her room is just like it was as usual – minus the dolls. I walk around, knowing that there was nothing out of order that I could see by doing so. I go to her bed and squat down, looking underneath it. I see the box – which nothing could get me to touch. I also see a book type thing. I pull it out.

The cover is black and looks almost lacey. I flip to the first page and realize it's Misa's diary.

_This could be horrible. _My mind warns me.

I flip to the last page – just having to know when she last wrote in it.

_Dear Diary,_

_Why do people always believe I am stupid? Everyone at school thinks I'm not smart – they even make fun at me for it. They all act like they are my friends but always make fun at me for saying something that just isn't intelligent. Excuse me, if my brain has random thoughts. I don't let them know it gets to me._

_Moiko is the worst of them. She acts so nice and so mean to me at the same time. I usually don't let it get to me, but her remarks have just been getting more and more mean. It was starting to bother me so I decided that I should do something about it._

_I invited her up into the tall part of the playground set. Everyone saw her fall as I slid down. No one would even guess the stupid girl pushed her._

_Mom and Dad were talking to Mr. Kimura again. They are always talking to him or each other about this case. I just wish the robber and I were on the tall part of a playground set. But I want to do more than break his arm._

I close the book frantically there. I shove back under there, leaving Misa's room. I know I should talk to her about what's been going on. I go to the bathroom and throw water on my face.

_Should I just let her outgrow it? _My mind is exhausted with not knowing what to do.

I go back to my room; Misa is stretching in my bed. The doorbell rings. Dad or Mom goes to open the door and I hear Mr. Kimura say, "Hello, Mr. Amane." I realize it was Dad.

I can hear Mom join them as they settle into the living room. Misa is sitting in my bed looking at me. We aren't surprised he was there – but I am wondering what he wants to talk about.

Mr. Kimura coughs and says, "Are your children here?"

Mom asks, "Yes, but why do you want to know?"

He says, "Unfortunately I also need their testimony."

Dad asks, "You mean you need to know their side of the story?"

"That and they may have to give it on the stand."

Mom asks in alarm, "You mean they would be in the courtroom?"

"Well, they are just involved in this case as you are. They deserve to know what is going on."

It sounds like Mom is about to argue when Dad cuts her off. "You're right. They do – and if it helps the case, I'm sure they won't mind. Right, honey?"

"Of course." She says almost like she isn't sure. Then she yells, "Girls?"

Misa and I look at each other then leave the room.


	13. Irritation

Misa is quiet for once, when we sit next to each other on the couch. Mr. Kimura coughs.

"Hello, you must be the daughters of Mr. and Mrs. Amane. I am Mr. Kimura." We both murmur soft hellos.

"Don't be so shy, sweethearts. Tell him your names." Mom says encouragingly.

"I'm Misa and this is my sister, Emiko." Yet again, Misa is never quiet (for long…).

"Well, it is a pleasure to meet you. Do you know why you were called down here?" Mr. Kimura talks like we're infants. It kind of annoys me.

"Because of the man who robbed us," Misa nods her head vigorously while she speaks. _She's going to end up giving her brain a bruise_, I think humorlessly.

I lean back into the couch. I don't really want to talk about "it". Misa talks enough for the both of us anyway.

"Very good," Mr. Kimura says. "Now both of you were in the closet when it happened, right?"

Misa nods some more. I'm expecting her to collapse on the floor from bleeding in the brain. I almost laugh at the picture I get in my head.

_I am slowly turning just as sadistic as Misa._

The image in my mind suddenly chills me. I wrap my hands around my middle – swearing never to become like Misa.

"Can you tell me what happened?" Mr. Kimura prods Misa a little more. That's all she needs – he won't get her to shut up until it's done now.

"Well, Emiko and I were going to get a towel for a mess I made with my drink and while we were getting the towel, the man busted in. Emiko pushed me into the closet – we left it cracked a little to see what was going on."

Mom makes a small sound in the back of her throat – she must not have known that. I shrug my shoulders in my mind. It's not my fault we were scared for them.

"He told Mom and Dad to get down on the floor – he had a gun. He grabbed Mom by her hair and then kicked Dad. He knocked Dad out. Then they went upstairs.

"When they came back, he almost came and checked the closet. Mom screamed that she had silver in the kitchen. He left us alone and Emiko put me in a box, to hide me I guess."

She's getting to the part I don't want to hear. I cringe away with my mind but force my body to remain solid.

"He asked Mom some questions about where we were, and then he came and opened the closet. I held real still 'cause I knew Emiko was trying to protect me. Then it almost seemed like Emiko was trying to run away because she took a step then he hit her with his gun and she fell on the floor."

It's scary how calm she is saying this. It's an almost chill calm.

Mr. Kimura looks at me. _What do you want from me? She already told you the entire story! _I whine in my head. "Were you trying to run away?"

I shake my head, trying not to say anything but knowing I'm going to have to. "I – I don't remember. I swear."

He nods. I know he doesn't believe me but I really don't care. I can't remember anything in those few moments. I had made sure to not be able to remember anything.

Dad looks at Mr. Kimura and then turns to us. "Girls, I think that's all Mr. Kimura needs. Thank you for letting him talk to you but I think it's time for you to go back upstairs."

We walk back up the stairs and Misa follows me into my room. _Go away. _

I go over to my pens and begin checking each one. "Do you think they'll put us on the stand? Do you think we'll get to go in the court room?"

"Probably." _I don't want to talk to you… _My head hurts and my stomach has cramps. I don't want to talk to anyone right now; I'm fully aware I'm in a sour mood.

"Ooooh. Do you think I'll get to say something to the man that did that to us? Will we have to be quiet? Do you think we'll have to dress up? If we do, do you think Mom will buy me a new dress? Do you think pink or black would be more formal? Probably black… Do you think we'll have to be formal? Do you think –"

"Do you think? Do you think? Do you think?" I mimic her with a harsh expression on my face. My mood just went down the drain – and I really don't care. "Well, Misa, do you think? Noooo. You have other people think for you. So let Mom and Dad think for you. But don't ask me to. I'm not an idiot for an idiot."

She stares at me for a second, and then runs out of the room. Her face is red and I think she's going to start crying. I slam down one of my pens – it breaks – as she slams the door. I throw myself on my bed and scream into my pillow into it feels like my throat is bleeding. But I don't go and apologize to Misa.

I'm not going near her room again for a while.


	14. Reconnection in a Sad Place

Many days later, I sit on the bench in the courtroom – I fidget in my dress. _How gross? Frills…_ Misa is on the stand, talking to "his" attorney.

"So are you sure it was my client, Orochi Fukui, was the perpetrator?"

Even though I now know his name, he still is "him". I watch Misa be quiet for a second, and then she blinks. A look of pure innocence comes upon her face as she turns her head slightly. "Excuse me, mister, but what does perpetrator mean?"

I see him control a slight shaking in his hand. I control a laugh – it had been going on to where Misa drove this man insane with her simplicity for a while now. He's going to call her down from the stand – I can tell.

"The person who broke into your house." He says that with irritation thick in his voice.

"Oh!" Misa smiles. "Of course it was him."

The man cocks his head slightly, a smug smile on his face. "And you were in the closet with your sister, correct?"

"Yes, Emiko was protecting me." She nods.

"So how could you tell that it was this man who came into your home?" he points to the man. I avert my eyes from the direction of his finger.

"Well, before he left, he threw open the closet door. He couldn't see me, cause I was hiding in a box, but I got a good look at his face. I know it was him."

"If you were in a box, are you sure you saw correctly?" _He likes to correct a lot. _I'm trying real hard to keep myself from falling asleep.

"I saw what I saw. You really shouldn't be so disrespectful – it doesn't look good in front of _His Honor._" She seems uninterested up until the end, when she sugar coats the judge's "correct" name. She shoots a look at him, smiling the same smile I saw that night.

I suppress a shudder at the memory – I had still been avoiding going to her room. Still, I have to maintain a laugh when "his" attorney shows his visible want to hurt Misa. Misa twirls her pigtail with her index finger and looks at him innocently. After a few minutes of quiet, Misa speaks again.

"Umm… sir? Is that all you need from me? Can I go back to my seat now?"

He clenches both of his hands white and forces through clenched teeth, "Yes. Tha…nk you for your time." He seemed to have an extremely difficult time to tell Misa thanks. I snicker under my breath. I feel Mom elbow me and I look up to her, ready for a whispered chiding. She is trying hard to keep a smile of her face and look reproachful, but her expression just makes me want to laugh more.

Misa comes over, sitting down next to me. She looks at both of us and then whispers, "What's so funny?"

We lose it. My sides start to ache as Mom and I lean into each other, trying to stop each other's shaking. It strikes me that it is more like Mom and I were friends than kin in this moment – which hadn't happened since before "it". It sort of makes me sad that this is where we would reconnect, in a courtroom.

His Honor coughs and says to the attorney, "Is that all you need?"

"His" attorney looks at His Honor and does a slight bow. "No, Your Honor. I would like to call Amane Emiko to the stand as well."

_What? I thought I was just here for show – he was supposed to ask Misa all the questions and leave me alone! I wasn't supposed to be asked anything – I can't get up. I don't want to move; I can't. I'll lose it if I do._ My mind starts doing random circles in my brain as nausea hits my stomach and the once-fun shaking hits my legs.

They're all waiting for me. They're all staring at me. Misa leans close to me and says, "It's okay, Emiko. I know you don't want to do this – just pretend like it is a bad dream. You have to. You're strong enough to."

Her words strengthen me and in that moment, Misa and I are completely back to normal, if not closer. I feel another ache that it would be here where I forgive her. I stand up, sucking in a breath as if it is my last.

As soon as I'm up in the stand, he starts questioning me. "You were in the closet with Amane Misa, correct?"

"Yes."

"She was in front of you, correct?"

"Yes."

"Why did you put her in front of you?"

I pause – I had never really thought about it. I can't think of an answer before he said the next question.

"This must have been very emotional for the both of you. How did you keep each other from crying? Is that why you were holding her in front of you? To keep her tears silent, correct? And if you were so focused on Misa, how could you tell who the person was that was robbing your home?"

His questions make my head swimming. I feel like I'm swaying but I know that I'm sitting properly. I stare at him, my dizziness keeping me from processing in of his questions to give answers.

"You know what I think?" I can tell he is about to put his neck out there. "I think the only reason you are saying that that Orochi Fukui is guilty is because your parents told you to."

_What? _"No! That isn't w-"

"I don't think you really saw anything. I think you were too busy keeping you and your sister safe."

"I saw everything." I cry out, my voice hoarse.

"Oh, is that correct? Then tell me, Emiko, was it your mom or your dad that got hit first? Did he leave your dad on the floor or knock him out, this criminal? Did your mom fight him? What type of weapon was he holding? And why didn't you try to fight him or wake up your father?"

His questions hit like stones, my stomach becoming like a storm from the remaining queasiness. I can't stay there and I jump of the stand, just as our attorney rises and says, "Your Honor! He can't question a young girl like that!"

I go past my family on the bench, past all of the benches. I hear someone get up to follow me out of the room. I run to the bathroom I saw before we entered; the bile rises to my throat, making my mouth tasting acidic.

When I run into the bathroom I go to the closest toilet and puke up my stomach. I can feel Mom's cool hands touch my forehead to pull back my hair. The vomit and my tears mix in the toilet bowl.


	15. I want Pocky Now

**A/N: Dengeki Daisy and Faster Than A Kiss are both actually mangas. I have been unable to read Faster Than A Kiss but Dengeki Daisy is really good and I suggest it as a read. Also, the Tohoku region is a real place and so is Akita. I own none of this, nor Death Note.**

Two weeks later, I'm sitting in Yoko's room – much to my own chagrin. The family had to go up to the Tohoku region. They needed to go the capital of Akita for the case. Ever since the incident with the questioning, my parents had requested that I be exempted from the court room due to my "fragile mindset after such a terrible occurrence". I didn't really care what they said about my "mindset".

I refused to go in the car, Mom and Dad refused to stay, and Misa refused for one of them not to go; if they didn't go, then she couldn't go. In the end, Mom ended up phoning Yoko's mom, which actually was a close friend of hers that does our dry cleaning. Yoko and I were extremely surprised to find that out – but it made things easier when we wanted to go over each other's house. I'm supposed to stay at their house for a few days, but if I needed anything, I had a key to get into my house.

I only had to wait until tomorrow for them to get back. I had been flippantly reading Dengeki Daisy, a book Yoko was reading when I first met her. I especially loved the character Riko – she's extremely funny and it makes me sad that Onii-chan and her never got married. Yoko is on her bed, trying to control her happiness of being in the imaginary world of Faster Than A Kiss.

I suddenly get a craving for pocky, so I close her book careful not to bend any pages. Yoko would freak if I damaged even one of her books – they were like a separated part of her. She doesn't even glance up as I walk out of the room. I go down her stairs to her kitchen – I had been here long enough to help myself to anything I wanted. It made me smirk to think of it like that – timid Emiko, me, comfortable anywhere.

I look up into the cabinet and search for the pocky. I see the noodles and peppers, plus some sugar crackers. But I don't see pocky. I hear Yoko's older sister, Nosuki, clump down the stairs, her big black military boots on her feet. I see her short, spiked hair before I see her face. It always surprises me how many piercings she has. I have a flash back of when I first met her.

"_Mom, Dad, is Emiko." Yoko introduces me with grand hand waving. I stand awkwardly in the door way, trying not to breathe on anything wrong. Her mom and dad aren't even in front of me. Her mom is in the kitchen and her dad is in the living room watching TV and petting a speckled cat._

_Her mom doesn't even turn around, but I can hear the smile in her voice. "Well, it is certainly nice to meet you, Emiko. I hope you like miso soup – but if you don't I guess I'll just have to make you."_

_I stand there shocked, not knowing how to respond. That's when I hear Yoko's dad's booming laugh. It almost makes me jump. I turn to see him, through the hallway connecting the dining room and kitchen to the living room. He looks at me, smiling. "Don't let her scare you – she makes jokes like that all the time."_

_A figure appears in the living room, a girl clothed in black and red. She looks frightening and doesn't even smile at the joke. She looks like if you got on the wrong side of her, you'd be dead. I see all the metal on her face and wonder how she can even get through the airport. My face flashes with heat when I think that and my mind starts to insanely wonder if she can read minds. Yoko shifts her feet and says, "Emiko, that is –"_

"_Mom's jokes are never funny. And they are always the same – I don't know why you laugh at them all the time." She says almost monotone. Yoko's father looks slightly upset, but like he was used to it._

"_This is Nosuki. She's in high school." Yoko finishes her earlier statement then says to her mom, "We're going to go to my room now."_

_We had to past her older sister on the way there. I almost grazed her arm and about fell over making sure I didn't touch her. She looks at me like I'm weird and I aimlessly think that maybe, just maybe, she can kill through eyes._

_Once we were up and safely in Yoko's room, I turn to Yoko with my eyes wide and say, "I hope we don't turn that scary from going to high school."_

_Yoko falls off her bed laughing at my ignorance._

Now I knew Nosuki better, and wasn't that afraid anymore – didn't mean I wasn't afraid. She saw me searching and before she left she called, "What are you looking for?"

"I want some pocky." I say loudly with my back turned to her.

She laughs and says, "Ohhh. I ate the last bit just this morning. Sorry." I hear the front door slam as she left.

My longing for pocky is really uncontrollable now. I wonder if my house may have any – after all, our houses are only three streets away. It couldn't bother checking, I think as I bound upstairs to pick up my keys.

**I have said this in a while down here so Please Review! I love to know all of everyones wonderful thoughts (even if you hate it) ^.^**


	16. Peanut Butter and Pictures

**A/N: The Morning Glory and Peony are both real flowers from Japan. The Morning Glory represents how short life is, since it only blooms in the morning. Peony represents wealth... I'm not sure why. I just thought you guys should know that! Please enjoy!**

Once I get inside my house, I go to our pantry. I find the pocky easy and take one and bite the uncovered cracker part first. I hold the chocolate part and suck off the chocolate, just leaving the cracker. I suddenly have a craving for pocky dipped in peanut butter. I set down the pocky and start looking for the peanut butter. I start jiggling my foot as I search – I really have to use the bathroom.

I stop trying to find the peanut butter and break for the bathroom. I can find the creamy goodness later. Right now, I needed to make sure I didn't pee all over myself.

After I finish washing my hands, I go back to the kitchen. I move our beans and our bags of rice. I even look over the gross canned miso soup. I can't find the peanut butter.

_Misa takes the peanut butter up to her room when she's upset._ My mind reminds me after I look underneath the onions a third time. _But why would Misa be upset?_

I don't really want to ponder it – there are many things that could make that girl upset. I just go past the dining room and the hallway with the pocky in hand. I bound up the stairs, actually heading towards Misa's room. This is something I haven't done in a while.

Her room looks normal when I get inside of it. I was scared that Misa would have had voo-doo dolls hanging from the ceiling. Or sticking out of the floor or something. I looked at her dressers, at her bed, but I don't see the peanut butter. Why the heck is she hiding PEANUT BUTTER?

I drop to the floor next to her bed. I see the shoe box and avoid it. I also see another shoe box but this one is a kind of gray sparkle. I'm scared to grab it or open it but I do anyway, since it might be where Misa is hoarding food.

There is peanut butter in the shoe box but there are also pictures of me. I see a picture of when we stayed at a lake, and me falling off of a rope to the water below. I turn the picture over to see what the date is.

_Emiko, eight, after Misa, three, shouts out "Don't fall," and splats into the water._

I remembered this now. Mom was snapping pictures and I was scared to let go of the rope. That was the time I fell into the water and sprained my wrist. I couldn't go swimming for the rest of the vacation, but Misa sat next to the lake with me.

I see another picture; I'm pushing Misa on the swing. I always wondered where Mom's pictures were… I flip it over.

_Emiko, eight, pushing newly four, Misa, on the swing._

Nothing interesting about this picture. I go to the next one.

_Emiko, eight, lying on the ground after Misa, four, accidently kicked her in the face._

My cheek gets a sharp pang of empathy. It seems that every time I'm involved with Misa, I end up getting hurt.

_Emiko, eight, walking away from Misa, four._

I remember this picture. I was tempted to hit the camera out of Mom's hand. I look to the next one. I'm sitting on a bench and Misa is coming up to me with flowers.

_Misa, four, trying to apologize to Emiko, eight._

I go to the next one which was really…unattractive.

_Emiko, eight, extremely upset at Misa, four, and ripping up the flowers. Emiko is now eating Misa's apology flowers in rage. _

_Note to self: take Emiko to the doctor._

I try not to laugh, but my face looks too classical. I feel bad for the poor flowers. I pull out the rest of the pictures and find a book at the bottom. It looks really worn. I flip to the first page.

There's a picture of Misa and I at our Aunt's wedding. I see Misa's scrawl underneath.

_Emiko, ten, and me, six, at Aunt Makomi's wedding. Emiko had just fixed my hair and gave me the extra flower petals in her basket so I could put them in my room._

I smile at her hidden sweetness. I turn the page and see a picture of me pushing a boy into a sandbox.

_Emiko, nine, pushing Kuvsaki into the sandbox for calling me stupid. She's the only person who would do that for me._

I flip the page and see me reading _To Kill a Mockingbird. _I didn't realize she had taken a picture of me.

_Emiko, twelve, reading a book. She is really concentrating on it. She looks really pretty when she's thinking and all spaced out… I wonder if she thinks I look pretty too?_

My eyes almost over flow with love for Misa. I can't believe she actually cared enough to put a book together about stuff that deals with me. I'm stunned that Misa really thought I was pretty. I thought she was just being nice. I wonder how she got the pictures from Mom and how she took a picture of me when I was reading _To Kill a Mockingbird._

I flip the page and my breath gets stuck in my throat. A Morning Glory is pressed into the book. I see Misa's scrawl next to the beautiful blue petals.

_Emiko's favorite flower, a Morning Glory. _

The next page shows a Peony. The light airy pink of the petals distract me from reading Misa's reason this flower is in this book.

_My favorite flower, a Peony._

I flip to the next page, but it is blank. I sit there staring at the blank page wondering.

_Why would Misa care so much to keep this? Does this mean she really care about our relationship? Does Misa really love me – was I mistaken about how twisted she is?_

_It is extremely kind of her to keep this – to show she cares this much._

In that moment, sitting there, I decide that Misa is my sister, no matter how creepy she gets, and that I love her. And that I needed to stop trying to avoid her unless I wanted information from her. I want to become that big sister to her again.

I don't care that she may be twisted – if she is twisted.


	17. Still a Chance

**A/N: After you read this chapter, you may think that this is the end of Amane Emiko... it's not. There will be some long time lapses and many - probably - more chapters. Still, I would like to know what you think of the story so far, since it has gone very far in my head! Please enjoy!**

I finish putting my stuff back in the suit case I brought to Yoko's house. She looks at me from her bed, for once not reading, and laughs. "Well, we probably won't be asking our parents to let us spend the night for a while."

I join in laughing. My mind flashes back to the multiple times we had almost clawed each other's eyes out for the past week. "Emiko, come on down! We need to get you home before your sister and your parents get home! You're supposed to be there to greet them, remember?" Yoko's mom had taken a liking to bossing me around. I guess to her, I was like one of her kids.

"I'm coming." I yell down the stairs.

"I'll see you later, Emiko. Don't become an unfamiliar, 'kay?" Yoko smiles from her bed, her joke amusing her.

"I'll see you at school. Save me a seat for lunch and for our Cultures class." Yoko and I now called our Understanding Different Cultures class the Cultures class. It was just too much of a mouthful to keep saying.

"Bye, Emiko!" she calls to me as I clomp down her stairs. Yoko's mom stands by the door.

Soon we are in the car and she has the radio on. It is just a bunch of politics so I zone it out and stare out the window. Today I get to see Misa again… I think of the Morning Glory she had in that book. Today would be the start of something new. Life was too short for me to shun her just because she was strange.

I watch as the trees blur into a green mesh. As we slow, the drive took less than two minutes, I look at my garden. Misa and I had planted it together. Now that it was fall, the flowers were beginning to die. Still, some Morning Glories poked through the dirt. I pull in a deep breath through my mouth. Today is a new beginning.

I get out of Yoko's mom's car and thank her. "You sure you don't need me to stay until they come, honey?"

"No ma'am, I'll be fine. Thank you for having me." I bow slightly in respect. She pulls out of the drive, waving as she goes. I wave back and soon she is gone. I drop my suitcase and sit on it. I balance myself while keeping it from falling.

I turn my face towards our little garden, next to our garage. It was just a small chunk of lawn at the corner of the house really. But it was something Misa and I both loved – gardening.

I remember us throwing dirt all over each. Her laughing as I scream from touching a worm. She knows I have a phobia of bugs. I remember me being in hysterics when she screamed because a beetle crawled up her arm.

I remember her rushing in with the first Morning Glory that had sprouted. I asked her what she was doing, pulling out our flowers. We got into an argument about that. I didn't know that she actually wanted to put it into a book… that she cared enough to mark it as my favorite flower.

I stand up from my suitcase; it falls flat but I don't care. I can pick it up later. I walk over to our garden. The one thing that brought Misa and I together every spring. I bend down to my knees, and my hand strokes the cool dirt that is feeding the flowers. I let my hand travel up the spine of a Morning Glory and indulge myself with the idea of plucking it.

My hand rubs the soft velvet of the petals. They feel as cool and as smooth as the water they look like. "Please let us have a new beginning…" I whisper to the wind. I get a sudden chill and I pull my arms tight around myself.

I stand up, rubbing the dirt off on the sides of my shirt. I walk to my suitcase and pick it up. I drag it to the doorway and stand there. I still shiver. I wait for a few minutes more and then see a taxi coming down our street.

I relish the crunch of gravel as it pulls into our driveway. I also feel a slight sickening regret in my stomach. It gives me nauseated butterflies. Was I feeling strange because I was going to be different towards Misa?

When they all get out of the cab, I see their faces. Misa's looks slightly upset but Mom and Dad's look worn, tired. They look defeated. I know that we lost this one; that the man made the jury believe 'his' innocence.

They get their things from the cab and Dad pays the man. He drives away as they walk up to our house. Mom and Dad can barely muster a hello, which was hopeless. Misa just keeps her eyes down and is quiet.

They go into their room after carting everything upstairs. Misa retreats into her room as well. I grab my suitcase and drag it up the staircase as well. I throw it in my room without so much as a glance.

I know that if Misa goes for the peanut butter, it will be there for her. I put it back after I had eaten Pocky with it. I don't think eating peanut butter will make her feel any better now.

I go to stand outside of her room, scared to walk in. I'm scared of what I'll see. I try taking a breath from my gut, telling myself that I have to go in. I have to try. Today is a new beginning.

A Morning Glory flashes in my mind and I think of Misa's book. If she loves me that much, then I can do this for her.

I push open the door. She sits at her dresser; her head is in her arms. "That man… How could he make it to where everyone believes the robber is innocent? How could we lose? Doesn't he deserve justice?" her voice is muffled.

I walk carefully to the other side of her room, where she sits. I stand behind her for a moment then I place my hand on her hair. The silky smooth texture reminds me of a Morning Glory petal.

"He does but that doesn't mean he will get it. It's not over yet, is it?" I try to encourage her softly.

"No…" her voice tells me she knows I am up to something.

"Then we still have a chance." I say confidently and pick up her broken brush and begin brushing her hair. Usually she hates when I brush her hair since she is tender headed, but this time she doesn't seem to care. I avoid the pig tails. She lets me brush her hair.

_We still have a chance, Misa. _I whisper in my mind as I know my eyes soften.


	18. Nail Polish Remover

"Finally! Think about it, Emiko, next year – freshmen, high school, boys." At the very end, Yoko squealed. I suppressed an eye roll, smirking. "What?" she demanded.

"You just never change – boy crazy in middle school, boy crazy going into high school." I explain my reason for my amusement.

"So? Sometimes I don't get you – you transform from a shy girl that only wore t-shirts and had glasses covering her face to a girl that can actually wear a two piece and make up and you still don't even show the slightest want to be with a guy!" she goes on a rant like she usually does.

She's right however; I had finally talked Mom and Dad into letting me get contacts and Misa had finally talked me into expanding my wardrobe. Yoko decided to do my hair every day since we both rode the bus in the morning. And the afternoon.

The bus squeaks to a stop. She stands up to get off – my stop was next – and before she left I said, "Yoko?"

She turns to look at me, still walking down the aisle, "Yeah?"

"Remember to breathe when you talk," I say, laughing. She gives me a fake sour face and turns and walks out.

I pick up my book bag when the bus starts rolling again. I get off of the bus a few minutes after Yoko, but unlike Yoko who can gracefully walk out and turn around while walking, I can barely stumble off the bus without hitting the floor. I keep my eyes down and my face is scarlet.

Yoko wasn't right about me not being shy anymore.

Once I get inside, I hear yelling. It's doesn't surprise me anymore – but it does surprise me that it is Mom and Misa fighting. They're upstairs and I don't really want to go up there. So, I walk through the hallway past the dining room and avoid the stairs.

Instead I go to the living room and look at my growing goldfish – Hirku. Mr. Kippers died in the middle of seventh grade – I kept forgetting to feed him. Hirku swims happily, not knowing that Mr. Kippers died on the rocks below her.

I stand there, trying to buy time from walking upstairs. I can still hear them bickering. My shoulders begin to ache – though there is basically nothing in my book bag. I guess it is just empathy pain. I know that in the next few moments I'm going to have to walk up there anyway, so I suck in a deep breath and ignore my displeasure.

"Misa – you are too young for that stuff to be on your nails!" I hear Mom yell as I walk up the stairs. She has Misa's hand in hers and she's waving it crazily. I muffle a snicker as I come up the stairs.

Then they both see me. I stop cold, not wanting to go near them.

While Mom is distracted, Misa rips her hand out of Mom's grasp. "You let me wear pink and purple and red! This is no different – it's just another color!" Misa says back, glaring at Mom. At least her voice was only slightly raised.

Mom looks at me again, then to Misa. "Emiko – come here." She beckons me. I come closer but not too close – scared they might bite.

I walk over to see what they were fighting about. Misa's fingernails have black on them. _I should have known._ I let out a soft breath, already through with this stupidity.

"Don't you think Misa should wait before she puts such a god awful color on her hands?" Mom asks me. Her tone is the kind you don't disagree with.

Misa's eyes look into mine, pleading. I know she wants me to take her side – she wanted me to help her deflect Mom's fury. Her big blue eyes beg mine, her pupils somehow seeming to enlarge as my gaze bore into hers. The blue in them make me think of Morning Glories…dang it.

"Mom, Misa's going to be on her last year of elementary school. I think she's expecting you to stop treating her like a baby and more like a child. I had plenty of friends who wore black on their nails before the end of fourth grade." I try to phrase it to where neither of them got upset, but Misa knew I was taking her side.

She smiled gratefully at me, her eyes happy. I look back at her and give her a smudge of a smirk. It probably looks like I'm grimacing but I know she gets it. Mom stares at both of us, unbelieving.

"No, no, no! I am the parent and I won't allow such a color or any other color now for that matter to be put on your nails until middle school. Now, go take that stuff off right now!"

Mom finishes her rant and storms down the stairs. Misa looks at her trailing away incredulously, and then she turns and flees to her room. I can tell she's upset and probably going in there to throw a massive fit. I hear her hit the floor and I go into my room. I put my book bag down and then exit the room.

I go to stand next to Misa's door, pulling it open quietly so she can't hear me. I see through the crack that Misa has her finger into the peanut butter. Her expression is sour, but every time she swallows some more peanut butter it softens. I see no harm in entering her room, so I do.

She looks up at me, and quickly stops eating peanut butter. She screws the lid back into place, looking guilty. I sigh and say, "It's fine, Misa."

She gives me an appreciating smile, still looking down. She gets up and goes to her dresser. She lays her head down on her arm. The scene reminds me of a time before. I think of her book under her bed – the Morning Glory. I go over to her this time, but I don't entangle my fingers in her hair.

I stand there awkwardly and wait for her to say something. She moans, "I know Mom and Dad are upset the case is still going on, but that doesn't mean they have to take their stress out on me. Or you, for that matter."

I suck in a deep breath. I try phrasing what I had come to believe our predicament was into fourth grade words. "Misa… It's just that the case is going to be really close. They've been going to different court rooms because those are different levels of the courts. Each level a case goes to means that another person appealed for a new judge and jury. I think we're somewhere close to the last level."

Misa picks her head up and turns it slightly sideways. "What happens on the last level?"

"Well, that's when the final choice is made – whoever wins there, wins the case."

"So he could win just because that jury and judge believe him?"

"Yes." Misa had picked herself up and had turned to face me. She looks up at me, looking curious.

"How do you know so much stuff, Emiko?" she asks.

"I go to school and I've been going for a while. I only know the basics of the government. I don't really know a lot of stuff." I say, fidgeting. I don't like it when people compliment me.

"No, I mean, how do you know so much about the case? I've only been telling you who what the people have been saying." Misa supplied what happened at court for me ever since I was excused for my "emotional instability".

I spot her nail polish remover on her other dresser. I also spot some cotton to take it off of her nails. I walk over and pick up both of them, talking to Misa while I'm coming back to her.

"I'm only guessing. I mean, the case has taken around three, almost four, years already. The jurors may just take a long time to decide whether or not that man is guilty or not. I don't really know why they are stressed – but I bet it has something to do with the case not going the way they want."

I unscrew the lid of the remover, trying not to inhale too many of the chemicals – I always thought they were bad for the brain – and pour a little on some cotton. I put it on Misa's thumbnail and begin rubbing off the black methodically.

She leans over and smells the chemicals in the remover – getting a good whiff of it. I look down, so many of my questions on Misa's brain level answered now. She turns back to me and says, "Hey, are you ready for next year?"

I keep my eyes focused on her hand. "What do you mean?"

She sighs. "High school. As in, high school." She exaggerates the syllables in high school.

"It's just another year in school." I say simply.

"I don't get you – high school is the coolest thing ever! You're going to be able to do whatever you want; you're going to have so much freedom."

"Those who take advantage of the freedom are the ones who fail." I say wisely. I look up to see Misa's expression.

She has her eye brow raised, questioning my sanity. She has a smirk on her face. "Okay, Miss fortune cookie…" she says.

I try to hold it in and I know she is trying to as well, but we both end up laughing. She lays her head on the dresser, almost crying from laughing so hard. I fall to the floor after a few moments, clutching my sides. I can't breathe and the euphoria is insane. Neither one of us can stop laughing.

I think the remover's chemicals may have affected our brains. Maybe just a little.


	19. Sarah and Deep Green

Later that night, Misa came in armed with three different nail polish colors, cleaning pads, and her nail polish remover. She looked like she was going into battle. "Emiko – "

"No." I say, putting down my book. My teacher told us that a good book to read over the summer was Charlotte's Web. Of course, she was my Understanding Different Cultures teacher. I had stuck with her all three years – I choice I did not regret at all. I had gotten into so many more books and music since I began her class.

I already knew Misa was going to try to paint my nails – now that she can't paint hers.

"Come on, you didn't even know what I was going to ask!" she whines. Misa had become whinier with her getting older. Usually kids get more mature, but I always knew Misa was special. Now I wonder what kind of special she is as the years have progressed…

"You came in with nail polish stuff. I can guess." I say without a trace of anger or irritation in my voice. I had become amazing at not letting her affect me like that anymore.

She gave me one of her sounds – irritated-like – and put it on my dresser then plopped down on my bed. She looked at me – that same look she gave me three years ago when she was in second grade. That look she gave me when she told me I was pretty. A look that now made me think that she had some unknown (by me) secret that was so brilliant I couldn't help but me curious.

"Emiko… please?" She doesn't try to dispute the fact that she came in with the intention to paint my nails anymore. I don't want her to – Mom will yell at me if I get it chipped. She thinks perfect nails lead to a good husband. I don't want a husband – I want a bookcase full of my favorites and a cat. Or two.

I sigh and look at Misa. Her eyes beg me and her bottom lip quivers with her desire. She can smell an easy victory – she knows I really don't care if Mom yells her head off at me. That's just how tolerable I had become.

"I would do my nails but remember, Mom said no nail polish for me. Come on – it'll be good bonding time for us!" she cries out the last part excitedly. _Bonding time…with Misa…_ I repress an eye twitch. Okay, so maybe I wasn't immune to Misa's… Misaness. Yet.

"If I say yes, will you leave me alone faster?" I say, bored. I see Misa recoil from my cold harsh words and then I feel bad. I make my tone softer. "What colors did you bring?" I try to look curious; my eyes flicker to my dresser – making sure she sees me looking.

She jumps up again, my minute of cruelty already forgotten. She brings the polish over to me and sets it down on my carpet. A few of the bottles fall over to the side. I notice that she has brought in mostly dark shades of pretty colors – blue, red, and green. She holds the green up to my face and says, "I think this would make your eyes stand out."

I don't want green – green stands out too much. No one wears green nail polish. I want a color that everyone wears, like blue. I don't want people asking why my finger nails are green. Still, I don't say a complaint as she unscrews the lid. I guess I'll just tough it out and keep my hands in my pocket.

"You remember that Sarah girl I told you about?" she asks as she puts the first stroke on my nails. The polish sparkles slightly in the light. I have to admit, it is a pretty color.

I sigh and say, "Well, when you're never quiet about how much you hate her, it's kind of hard for me not to not remember." I say my sentence jumbled, wondering if it made sense.

"So… apparently her parents sent her back to America, to be in some boarding school. I didn't even know she was from America." I look at Misa, my mouth open in complete disbelief.

"Her name is Sar – never mind. So her parents didn't go back with her?" I ask, not really curious.

"No, they had to stay to seal some business deal or something. They just thought it was better for her not to be in her old school. Also, they don't want her in Japan anymore – they think it could be bad for her." Misa's voice holds some sort of smugness to it. I try to suppress my curiosity since she sounds like she has another secret. Misa's voice must hold magic or something, to make me want to talk to her.

"Why?" I ask, watching her finish my first hand. I regret it as soon as a devilish grin lights up her face – all teeth. Her eyes get sneaky and I know she won't outright tell me this secret. I don't really want to know it anymore. Her face scares me too much for me want to know the dark secret.

"She was getting by some girl, I heard. That she'd come home all terrified and that she wouldn't want to go to school the next day. The girl was making her life a living hell – I even heard that the girl took all of Sarah's things and ripped them apart."

I don't comment on Misa's language. "That's terrible…" I murmur. I keep my face carefully concealed, so she can't see any emotion. If I'm right, Misa is the other girl.

"Not really. Sarah deserved it. She was mean and nasty to me and a bunch of my friends. And you know I'm friends with mostly everyone. Whoever got her to leave should be worshipped." She says the last part tantalizingly – like she could imagine everyone bowing down to her for defeating her 'horrid' nemesis that wrecked everyone's life. I know I'm right about Misa being the other girl.

My mind flashes to the journal entry I read in Misa's book. Her breaking Sarah's arm – I work hard to hide my shudder. She is almost finished with my other hand, but I realize she wants to talk more. I fish around in my mind for another question for Misa to answer. "Why didn't they just send her to a different school in Japan?"

Misa purses her lips, trying to think of a reason behind that. "I don't know." She said carefully. "It could be because her parents are finally going back to America after this or maybe they think she'd be happier near people of her own race." She snorts at the thought of that – a girl wanting to be around people who make her feel normal. Because Misa never wants to feel normal. "Maybe she has a family member back in America that could watch during the times she was out of school. I don't really know though."

She finishes all my nails and I wiggle them to appease her. I stare at them, with their slight sparkle and the pretty, deep green. I take too long to answer, and Misa nudges me with her foot. She had spread herself out on my floor while she was talking.

"I think it's very pretty Misa. Now all I have to do is keep it on so Mom doesn't bite my head off." I say bitterly sarcastic.

Before Misa can think up a witty remark – or witty in her opinion – Dad calls her. She rolls her eyes and says, "Probably going to chew me out for wearing black nail polish."

"Probably," I say simply.

She gets up and leaves. As soon as the door closes behind her, I begin to think of Sarah. A cold chill travels up my spine and I pull my arms around me to keep the shivers at bay. I push her out of my mind, determined not to let her separate me from Misa.


	20. I Don't Care Anymore

**A/N: Hi people out there! I took a peek at the story list thingy and it looks like someone(s) is ACTUALLY reading this. Thank you, I appreciate it. **

I hear the door slam as my parents come home from another trip to another court room. I'm up in my room – looking at the eleventh grade reading list. I have already read all of them so it's going to be another easy year in literature. Misa comes running up the stairs – her feet sound heavier than usual. I expect her to walk in at any second, but I hear her door close instead.

_Why didn't she come into my room? What happened?_

I put the paper down on the floor next to where I'm lying and stand up. I go to my door, open it, and go across the hall to Misa's room. I knock on the door and Misa says, "Emiko?" her voice is timid and sad sounding. My mind jumps to the worst case scenario.

_No._

I walk in to see Misa with mascara and eyeliner running down her cheeks. Ever since she got into eighth grade, she had been wearing a lot more makeup. She also never took off the black nail polish now. Mom didn't comment on it. Still, to see the sadness in her eyes, it was shattering.

_No._

I know she's unhappy because Mom and Dad are sad – which only gives one possible answer to why they are.

_No._

I walk closer to Misa and her eyes suddenly become alarmed. But the shock in her eyes is still masked by a dejected look. The room starts to fall on its side – I continue to walk towards Misa. My chest feels like it is suffocating – my vision is making the room grow darker.

_No._

The last thing I remember is Misa standing up rushing towards me and feeling her soft carpet on my cheek.

-/-

My mind snaps back to consciousness as a cool, damp, rag touches my forehead. I can feel Misa's probing gaze, but I can also tell this isn't her touch. It's far too gentle. I crack open my eyes to feel the bright light hitting my eyes. I get a strange sense of déjà vu.

_Oh._

My memories return in a flood and I recall why I fainted in the first place. I search wildly for each family member with my eyes. Misa there, poking her face on the edge of my bed, staring at me. Mom is the one wiping my forehead off – she stares at me anxiously. There is also a hint of panic in her eyes too. I can barely detect it; she must be trying to hide it.

I can't see Dad anywhere. "Where's Dad?" I ask, my voice dry and strained. Misa stands up and leaves the room. Mom puts the rag on my forehead to keep it there. Then she addresses my question.

"Honey, why did you faint?"

I pull in a deep gulp of air, knowing what she wants me to say. She doesn't want to say it – she's probably already said it over a dozen times. Now is not the time for me to shy away from talking about 'him'.

"We lost the court battle, didn't we?" I ask quietly.

Her eyes become sadly clear, though I can still see her stress lingering in the dark corner of her pupil. I guessed right. I keep my breathing steady and try to make sure I don't pass out. Again. "Yes, and that's why Dad isn't here right now."

"…Because he stayed back to…?" I ask, completely lost. Why would he not be here because of losing the battle? He should be here – family is more important now than ever! I feel a spark of irritation light up inside of me, despite the dragging black feeling I had in my gut. The rag starts to get warm, and it's not helping my annoyance.

"He didn't stay back, honey. He just…wanted to talk to that man." Her voice reluctantly gave out this bit of information. Mom isn't good at keeping secrets, I realize.

I also realize what she had just said. "What?" I shriek, bolting upright. The rag falls into my lap, and begins leaving a wet print on my cover.

Mom didn't react. She gently touched my head, and then let her fingers trail through my hair. I guess that it was supposed to be soothing – it wasn't. She kisses my forehead – the soft kind of kiss I used to crave as a little kid. "Get some rest honey; I'm sure he'll be home tonight."

She walks out and Misa stands up. "How did you get home then?" I ask her, desperate for her to tell me any small detail of what has occurred today.

"Mom drove. I guess Dad is taking a cab." Her voice holds a strange cold bitterness to it. I flinch from it.

"Why…why are you talking like that?" I ask hesitantly.

She walks closer to my door and I can only see one side of her face. Her eye goes to the corner to meet mine, sharp like jagged ice.

"All that man has done is messed up our lives. I'm sick of it – I just wanna be normal for once. I don't want to have to make up excuses of why I'm not in school. I want to hang out with my friends and not expect something bad to happen like us losing the battle." Her voice fades in and out of a soft whine. "I heard Dad – he said he was going to kill that man. I hope he does."

I gasp. _Why would she say that?_ "But, Misa, that's wrong!" I protest.

Her eyes go back to the door and she strides forward. She grabs the handle, and then her head lowers in such a way that I know her hair is falling in front of her face. She laughs, a soft laugh that had the weight of the world in it. "I don't care anymore."

And with that she's gone.


	21. Door Frame

**A/N: I'm sorry I haven't posted in a while – school work has been swamping me. If anyone is still reading this, then here's the next chapter!**

I watch Mom pace next to our house phone – she's been doing so for the past five minutes. It was like a cycle to me now – Dad still isn't home and we lost the court battle three weeks ago. I look down at my plate, all my food untouched. Misa's plate is also full.

I get up, my stomach somehow full. As I go to put my plate in the sink – knowing that it's Misa's turn wash dishes. Ever since Misa got into middle school, she had to help clean, which I was grateful for. I hate doing all the chores.

The phone rings as I turn to leave the kitchen. I spin around and it's at Mom's ear already. "Hello, honey, is that you?" I can feel the tension in her voice, stretched tight like a rubber band.

"I'm sorry, officer, have you heard from my husband?" Now her voice held a hint of panic. I remain rooted to the ground, too afraid to move to leave or go to Mom. Misa has stood up as well. There is a voice on the other line, too quiet for me to hear.

There are a few short breaths that break from my mother, and then the phone slips from her hand and clatters on the floor. I rush to grab the phone, while Misa rushes to Mom. I feel guilty that I didn't help Mom, but I needed to know what happened to Dad.

"Hello? Officer – hello?" I ask, frantically.

"Um, hello, ma'am. Are you the same person I was talking to a moment before?"

"No, I'm her daughter. Did you hear anything about my father?"

There is a pause on the other end. His answer is uncomfortable. "Is she not going to tell you?"

"My mother is, at the moment, preoccupied." I say, my voice tight. I loved how my vocabulary had expanded as I exceeded through school, but right now wasn't the time to marvel in how well I was speaking.

"Oh… well, unfortunately, we believe we have found your father—"

"Why is that unfortunate?" I ask sharply.

"Please let me finish, ma'am." He says, seemingly irritated. "We think we've found your father's body."

"What?"

Mom cuts in before he answers me. "Give me the phone, Emiko." Her voice is dead, but somehow still shaky. Her hand is held out, waiting for me to release the phone. I don't for several seconds and I watch a spark of anger light her eyes. "Give me the phone, Emiko." She repeats, firmer than before. I still don't move so she breaks away from Misa, who is curled inwards next to her.

She comes toward me with a fury and grabs the phone, shoving me in the process. I stumble backwards and fall into the door frame, hitting my side on it. I haven't seen this side of Mom before – I knew sometimes she had a tendency to get angry. But it was always at Dad then…

I turn and flee the room, Mom not calling out to me. She wasn't even trying to apologize. I hear her answer the phone, and Misa shuffle away from her also. She probably didn't want to get hit. I run up the stairs, and into my room.

A few minutes later, I hear Misa come up. I throw myself at my door and, for the first time ever, I turn the lock to keep me in my room and her out. I hear her knocking, "Emiko, Mom didn't mean it. Please open up."

I just sit and stare at the door. My side throbs and my mind replays the incident. I won't open the door.


End file.
